


Lifesavers & Lollipops

by liftedandgifted



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam, Consensual Underage Sex, Finger Sucking, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Thumb-sucking, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 15:13:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6759163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liftedandgifted/pseuds/liftedandgifted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's always needed something, <i>anything</i> filling his mouth. Dean is his enabler.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lifesavers & Lollipops

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SPN Kink Bingo  
> Square FIlled: Oral Fixation  
> Also on tumblr [@mellowwincest](http://mellowwincest.tumblr.com/post/143922368856/lifesavers-lolipops)  
> Heed the warnings! Sam is thirteen, Dean is 17

John couldn’t wean Sammy of his binky for the life of him. He’d waited too long. Almost four and the kid barely spoke because his mouth was always filled. It wasn’t like John hadn’t noticed, hadn’t considered taking it off him before now, but there were more important things to worry about than what kept his son’s mouth occupied. Besides, with Dean there to talk for him, to take care of him, John wasn’t ever too concerned for his youngest.

Eventually, John took it away. Without the pacifier, Sam just found something else to suck on. His fingers, Dean’s fingers, candy, and the one time John actually caught him with a stone in his mouth. 

Sam began crying at night, big, fat, silent tears, and Dean pulled him into a tight embrace and offered up his thumb for sucking. Sam nuzzled into his brother’s neck, slipping the digit into his mouth and sighing as the warmth of Dean’s affection sunk in. It was love and safety all in one, and Sam never wanted it to go.

When it was time for Sam to start school, John loaded his pockets full of lifesavers and lollipops, hoping it would at least keep fingers out of Sam’s mouth for most of the day. He got calls from teachers worried about Sam’s sugar intake, his oral fixation, and the fact that he was practically mute. They suggested doctors, therapy, and different tactics to help him. Needless to say, they moved around quite a bit those years.

John didn’t need help raising his sons. Sam was fine. He could talk fine. The fact that he _didn’t_ , well that was up to Sam and if he’d rather not, John wouldn’t force him. He liked quiet in the back of his car.

Middle school was easier on John and Sam. Teachers didn’t question Sam’s silence, chalked it up to him being new and shy. They didn’t care how many sugary goods he inhaled through the day as long as he didn’t leave the wrappers lie everywhere.

The problem came when John decided it was time for Dean to start hunting.

Sam wailed, heavy, mucus-soaked sobs breaking from his chest. He clung to Dean, fingers wrapped around his wrist, holding Dean’s thumb to his mouth. In a wobbling, halted voice Sam choked out, “Yo-o-ou ca-” he paused to catch his breath, gasping and gagging on the words. “Can’t go-o, Dean. Please. Please!” He turned wide, broken eyes to his brother, the glance burning like a hot laser on Dean’s heart.

“Sam, quit crying already. You’re thirteen, now act like it. We’re only going to be gone for one night, for Pete’s sake.” John’s voice was exasperated and gruff as he finished packing his duffel. “Dean, get your fingers out of your brother’s mouth,” he added as an afterthought. 

It used to disturb him a little, make him feel the failure as a parent like a blow to the gut, the way Dean enabled Sam. He wasn’t blind to the way they slept, Sam with a digit in his mouth, curled up like dogs. He’d given up on breaking their habit, not willing to break their bond in the process. So he averted his gaze, and went out to check the car one last time.

Dean turned to his brother and walked him over to their bed, sitting him down. He drew his hand away to tilt Sam’s head up, wanting to see his favorite set of eyes and pretty pair of lips as he said goodbye. Hands stroking his little brother’s hair, soft and familiar under his palms, he gently shushed. “Sammy, hey, eyes on me buddy, okay? Listen. Just listen to me. I’m going to be gone one night, okay? It’s just one night.” Sam let out a sob, scrunching his eyes shut as though he could take the pain away if he couldn’t see. He shoved one of his own thumbs in his mouth, sucking hard and fast on it. “Sammy, _look at me_. C’mon. There they are, those eyes. That’s a good boy.” Dean continued softly stroking through Sam’s hair, heart hurting at the sight of his brother in such distress. 

Suddenly, he leaned down to rest his lips on Sam’s forehead whispering, “I’m not looking forward to tonight either, Sammy. But we’ll be fine, okay? You call me if you need me. Only if it’s an emergency.” He pulled back to grab a bag from under the bed, smiling the most reassuring one he could manage. “And look, I bought your favorite suckers to snack on. There’s cereal you can have for breakfast tomorrow, pb&j for lunch, and you know how to heat up Campbell’s.”

Sam finally stopped crying, still gasping in shuddering breaths, and nodded at Dean, taking in the information, basking in his brother’s care.

“C’mon Dean,” John’s voice barked from the entrance to the motel room, causing the boys to jump. “Let’s hit the road.” He strode in to where Sam was sitting and ruffled his son’s hair roughly, tugged the limb out of his mouth. “We’ll be back soon, kiddo. Stay inside except for school, be good.”

With that, John turned to walk out the door, Dean right behind him, but a yank on his arm had him turning back. Sam’s arms circled his waist, head resting on Dean’s clavicle for a moment. “Be safe,” Sam whispered.

Dean hugged his brother back, committing the moment to memory. Their father’s voice calling his name prompted Dean to finally break away from the embrace, giving Sam once last pat on the head.

-

Sam’s security, his life and love, laid with Dean. Without his brother there, Sam felt like up could be down and nothing made sense. School was a disruption, something that took away his time. Here, alone in an empty room, Sam thought he could go crazy.  
He tried reading while he sucked on the lollipops Dean left him. Unable to concentrate, mind moving in a million different directions, he did homework which was a welcome distraction for once.

When he was finished, he took a shower. As the warm water washed over his body, Sam couldn’t help but indulge himself in the mesmerizing dreams he’d been having lately.

Dreams of being on his knees and sucking gently on his big brother’s cock, of drawing the sweetest skin of his brother into his mouth and never letting go. He managed to come in the shower, sighing in pleasure, but afterward felt nothing but yearning for Dean.

He didn’t sleep that night. He missed the warmth of his brother, the salty tang of wet skin in his mouth. He tried sucking on his own thumb, but without the safety of burrowing into Dean’s chest, it’s helpless. Tossing and turning was futile, so Sam settled for lying on his back, four fingers in his mouth, and stared at the ceiling until the sun returned.

Morning was difficult, getting ready for school and eating. He felt like he couldn’t get anything big enough in his mouth, nothing helping the ache he felt in his chest, stomach, and throat. School was a trial of torture. He ran out of lollipops halfway through the day, and having been beaten for his frequent thumb-sucking before, he had enough self-control to keep his fingers out of his mouth. He ended up finding nothing to occupy his tongue but pencil erasers.

At the motel, he rinsed his mouth with water and ate the soup Dean had left for him to take away the disgusting taste of rubber and graphite. 

It was late evening when Sam finally heard the phone chirping. He scrambled to pick it up, heart racing in excitement. There was only one person who would be calling him. “’Lo?” He answered, voice high in anticipation.

Dean’s voice was loud through the speaker, and Sam could hear music playing low in the background. They were in the car. “Hey Sammy! How’re you doing?”

Sam talked quiet into the phone, clearing his throat once before answering. “I’m okay Dean. Are you coming home?” Home wasn’t this motel, or Lawrence, or anywhere in the world but where Sam was. It was all he could think of, their return.

A little gentler, Dean replied, “Yeah Sam we’re on our way home now. Should be back in a bit, okay?” 

Afraid of his brother hanging up, Sam yelled into the phone, “Dean, wait!”

Dean chuckled. “Yes Sammy?”

Again Sam cleared his throat to answer. “I just… I wanted to ask. Are you okay?”

Another chuckle. “Yeah Sam, I’m okay. A little sore, but otherwise fine.”

Sam found himself nodding, accepting Dean’s answer and anticipating his return. They listened the each other’s breathing for a minute before Dean spoke again. “Hey, I’m gonna let you go, okay? But we’ll be home soon, I promise.”

“Okay Dean.”

With that, Dean hung up the phone and Sam held it up until it started screeching.

-

It wasn’t a feeling he could describe, when he finally heard the rumble of the Impala. He was tired, light-headed, and his heartbeat echoed wildly throughout his body.

John entered the room first, headed to the bathroom to shower. He threw a casual “Heya Sammy” over his shoulder with a satisfied smile at seeing his son okay, and disappeared into the bathroom. Then there was Dean strutting through the door, dirt streaking his clothes and circles under his eyes. Sam was on him immediately, hugging as tight as he could, trying to show Dean how much he had been missed.

Dean breathed a sigh, “Sammy,” and returned the hug, glad to be with his brother again. He barely slept, missing the usual warmth of Sam by his side. The water in the bathroom shut off, and they broke apart, Dean unpacking some of his duffel.

John came from the bathroom, cleaned and dressed. He walked over to his boots and sat to begin putting them on. He looked up at his boys. “I’m heading to the bar tonight, kiddos. Just go to sleep at decent hour, okay?”

Before he left, he walked over to his oldest son, clapped him on the shoulder, and told him, “Great job on the hunt son. Proud of you.”

After Dean’s shower, they both laid in bed, and Sam found himself clinging to Dean while Dean told him about the hunt. It was a salt and burn, something simple for Dean’s first hunt. Dad had Dean do most of it himself, testing his abilities. Sam began tuning his brother out, finishing up the lifesaver he’d stuck in his mouth.

He was nestled into Dean’s side, head resting on his chest, heart beating in his ear. Sam couldn’t help himself. He sent out a tentative tongue and licked at Dean’s nipple through his night shirt.

“Sammy?” he heard through the haze in his head. Sam wasn’t really listening though. He wrapped both lips around the hardened nub and sucked hard, innocently looking over at his brother. “Sa-hnng.” Dean was looking over at him, mouth parted in a confused expression. “Sam,” his breathing was a little harder, which made Sam feel a little better. “What’re you doing?”

“Don’t you ever get tired of me just sucking on your fingers? Don’t you ever want me to suck on something else?” He grinned widely as he drew the nipple back into his warm mouth, hearing Dean let out a pleasured sigh.

He heard the trembling in Dean’s voice as he said, “Sam c’mon, let’s just go to bed. Not today.” He went to push Sam’s head away, but Sam dodged his hands and slunk lower on the bed. Dean tried talking sternly, but Sam could see the tent in his boxers, hear the want beneath each word. “Sam we can’t. Stop, c’mon.”

“Dean, I just want to suck it. Please. I really want to try. To see if I like it.” Sam turned on the biggest, widest puppy dog eyes he had in his arsenal. Dean could never deny him.  
Dean just stared back for a second, then threw his head back onto the mattress. “Fuck,” he said.

Sam smirked and took that as his answer. He pulled Dean’s boxers down, exposing hardened flesh leaking at the tip. A warm tongue darted out, licking a hot strip right up the middle. Dean groaned wordlessly.

Positioning himself at Dean’s hip, Sam rested his head on Dean’s belly, mouth lined up with the head of his cock. It was big, average length but thick. Sam lapped at the precome dripping from the slit in front of him, and then drew the whole tip into his inviting mouth.

“Oh God,” Dean muttered. Sam smiled around the flesh, sucking gently, loving the taste and feel. After a little while of that, he felt fingers in his hair. Sam looked up, and what he saw instantly made him hard in his shorts. Dean’s pupils were blown wide, lips wet and pink, skin flushed red under the freckles that littered the apple of his cheeks. “Sammy, either you have to suck me or I’m going to jack off.”

Sam had almost forgotten the sex, content to suckle on the member forever, but he couldn’t leave Dean in such a state.  
In between Dean’s legs, Sam took his brother into his mouth again, tongue lying flat against the flesh as he drew his head up and down.

“Wrap your lips around your teeth and suck a little harder Sam,” Dean croaked out.

When Sam did that and added a hand at the base of Dean’s cock, Dean moaned loudly. “Just like that, baby. Just like that.” Sam lost himself in the task, unsure how long he’d been blowing Dean, but soon he realized Dean was panting hard staccato breaths, hips pumping under Sam’s head, and warm liquid filled Sam’s mouth. He looked at Dean and grinned, swishing his brother’s come around his mouth before swallowing.

Dean was speechless, sated and boneless under Sam as Sam laid his head back on Dean’s tummy. “God, Sammy.”

Sam went to wrap his lips gently around Dean’s cock once more, this time more pliant and soft in his mouth. Dean hissed at the sensation on his sensitive flesh, but once Sam got settled, he calmed and they both fell into a deep slumber.

-

That night, John stumbled in from the bar, drunk and tired. He’d been proud of Dean for what he accomplished on the hunt, seventeen years old and better than the majority of seasoned hunters John had encountered. The thing he couldn’t shake sometimes, the thought that followed him into nightmares, was that this was no life for his children. Always on the road, Sam a social recluse, Dean chained to his little brother, and John an absentee parent. It wasn’t what Mary would have wanted. And then he thinks, _But Mary’s dead_. Killed by an evil that had to be stopped, an evil that had the power to destroy his Sammy.

John’s drunken thoughts were interrupted when he took a glance at the boys sleeping in their bed. He wiped at his eyes, hoping they were wrong, but the scene didn't change.

Grumbling, he went back out to the Impala, keying her open and sliding inside to sleep for the rest of the night. He supposed he’ll just have to get separate rooms from then on.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for any errors! Thanks for reading!


End file.
